


Nothing in Between

by Cardinal_Sin (HU_shipper)



Category: Powerwolf (Band)
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff, M/M, Maybe??? Kinda???, anyway uhh, i have no tags for this fic but its cute i swear, idk if this counts as hurt/comfort, probably not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 17:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19873438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HU_shipper/pseuds/Cardinal_Sin
Summary: Sometimes people forget to take care of themselves. Sometimes people are too exhausted to take care of themselves. It's nice to have someone who is willing to help.





	Nothing in Between

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raijin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raijin/gifts).



The atmosphere in the green room was, well, chaotic. And only because there wasn't a harsher word to describe everything. There was Attila, warming up his vocal chords, Falk and Matthew doing God knows what – hopefully their makeup would stay intact – and of course, Charles, still practicing.

"Love, stop it. You're fixating," Roel said as he sat down on the armrest of the couch Charles was occupying. "It's gonna be great."

"I'm not fixating," Charles mumbled. "I've been having trouble with this one part; I just want to make sure I won't mess it up."

"Yeah, that's what fixating is. Put it down."

Charles shot him a dirty glare, but put down the guitar anyway. He leaned back in an obvious 'Fine, you win' pose. Roel noticed the tired glint in his eyes when their gazes met. Damn. Charles wasn't a particularly bad sleeper, but he had his bad days, just like everyone.

Roel nudged Charles in the shoulder. "How much have you slept tonight?"

"Like two hours," came the answer, Charles' tone flat and dry. Roel winced internally; imagining how shit Charles must be feeling, having to perform a near-two-hour, physically and emotionally exhausting set on exactly that much sleep.

"Have you eaten something?" Roel carried on with the questions, growing more and more concerned with the passing minutes. He was twirling one of his drumsticks back and forth between his fingers.

"Can you fucking stop that?" Charles groaned, throwing his head back. "And no, I haven't eaten. You try and eat with this nausea."

"Right," Roel muttered, dropping the drumstick into his lap. "But can't the nausea be because you haven't eaten anything?"

"I don't know," Charles admitted. "Maybe. We're up in about ten anyway, so it doesn't matter at this point."

Roel reached into his pocket. He always kept some snacks around in one of his countless – "who even needs this many??", Thanks Matthew – pockets in case he, or his dumb metal boyfriend got hungry.

"Here, have this," he said – as a warning – before chucking a Kit Kat bar at Charles. He forgot to take the Tired People Lag™ into account though, and had to watch as the dessert hit the sunshine of his life square on the forehead. Said sunshine transformed into a ball of rage in exactly 0.2 seconds, grabbing the candy bar and shaking it in front of Roel's face.

"HAVE THIS??? THE FUCK IS THIS?? HUH – oh, it's Kit Kat. I love Kit Kat."

"Yeah, I know," Roel smiled. Charles unwrapped the bar and broke it in half, devouring it in three bites. He offered the other half to Roel with an apologetic face.

"I'm sowwy," he said, his mouth still full, "I wove you."

"I know," Roel sighed affectionately. "I know. Eat the rest of it."

"Five minutes, guys," a stagehand announced, having appeared just to say that and then disappearing again. Charles stood up and swept the crumbs off his costume.

"Wait." Roel stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "You have chocolate on your cheek. Let me get it."

He wiped away the smudge, careful with the makeup. Charles gave him a grateful smile.

"Good luck kiss," he murmured then, and leaned down to press a small kiss to Charles's forehead. Charles squeezed his hand a little.

"Let's rock."

\--*--

Roel looked terrible, Charles noticed as they were coming off stage and into the dressing room again. Their shows were exhausting for everyone – Falk for example fell into a coma the second they were back on the bus almost every night – but drums were also tiring as shit, if their crazy beats were anything to go on.

It became obvious that this would be one of those nights when Roel fell onto the couch. Not sat down fast, literally fell down. Charles rushed to his side to check up on him, relieved to see Roel still conscious, but half-asleep. Charles grabbed an energy drink from the mini fridge and pushed it into Roel's hand.

"Drink. And next time you force-feed me chocolate, I won't comply until I see you eat something too. Dumbass."

"I ate a bunch of stuff though," Roel protested weakly. "Also, I don't think drinking is going to happen right now."

Charles sighed and brushed a hand across Roel's cheek. "Then just sit tight, okay? I'll take care of you in a few minutes."

Charles wiped his makeup off in record time, changing back into actual made-for-humans clothing (seriously, the stage outfits were a bitch to wear for long) and tying his hair back in a haphazard ponytail. He would shower later, but right now there was more important stuff to do.

He grabbed a bunch of makeup wipes and pulled up a chair to Roel's couch. He grabbed Roel's left hand first, wiping away the white paint on his arm that didn't wash off with sweat. It was actually a little scary how weak Roel felt in that moment, his body pliant and powerless.

Charles lifted the freshly cleaned hand to his mouth and pressed a small kiss to Roel's knuckles. Roel gave his hand a weak little squeeze, and Charles looked up at him to see him smile tiredly. Charles switched hands, wiping down the right arm as well, making sure his movements stayed gentle all along. Charles tipped Roel's head back with a finger under his chin. He wiped Roel's neck carefully; pulling his collar aside to make sure he got everything.

As Charles reached around Roel's head to untie the bandana, he heard Roel whisper, too quiet to comprehend. Charles hummed softly, almost a question.

"I just said I'm sorry," Roel slurred. "I'm sorry you have to do this for me."

"Love," Charles started, pulling away the light blue fabric, "if I didn't do this I'd be the worst boyfriend in the Universe. You're dead tired. Just let me give you a hand. Here, close your eyes."

Roel shut up then and did just that, thankfully, because Charles didn't have any other arguments. He would have hated to resort to knocking Roel out.

Charles started with the eyelids, the most delicate part. He tried to apply as little pressure as possible, all the while murmuring nonsense to Roel to keep him from fidgeting. He moved on to the

brows and forehead then, pressing feather-light kisses to Roel's skin in the wake of his hands. The cheeks and the beard – oh, the beard – got the same treatment, and when Charles tilted Roel's head to the side to clean his ears, he brushed his thumb along the edge of Roel's ear just to make him shiver in that adorable, undeniably Roel way.

"Close your mouth," Charles instructed finally before taking the wipe to Roel's lips, gently rubbing away the makeup there. Charles was, admittedly, pretty fucking obsessed with Roel's lips. He leaned in and placed a quick but gentle kiss on them, not expecting Roel to reciprocate, just signalling that he was done. Roel smiled dopily, too tired to even use his words, but his gratitude came through anyway.

In a few minutes, Charles would pull up Roel by his hands. He would make him take a shower and then put on clothes so they could leave. In a few minutes. For now, he would let him rest.

**Author's Note:**

> the title, nothing in between, refers to the fact that i left out the entire show between the first and second scene, so, in a way, there's nothing in between. Haha, i'm a genius, i know.


End file.
